Page 30 of Rough Patch

“You’re just saying that because I had your baby today.”

He grinned. “Yes, you did. That probably entitles you to some kind of present. Something big and shiny.” Diamonds, maybe. But then he considered how much money he didn’t have. Hell, he might just as well promise her the moon. He couldn’t buy it any more than he could afford a diamond.

“I would rather just have you.” She tugged him closer with the hand still attached to hers.

Grier leaned over the rail and kissed her lightly. Best kiss of his life. “I love you, Fiona.”

Not that he hadn’t thought it or said it before, but this time, he felt it all the way to his toes. Grier Owen loved Fiona Strong-Owen. And it was going to take a wrecking ball or a SWAT team escort to make him leave her again.

Fiona waited until Grier went to the cafeteria before she tried feeding the baby. And failed. Her daughter wouldn’t latch. She would only cry. Her still nameless baby didn’t want to eat from her mother, didn’t want to be held by her either if the crying and squirming meant anything.

She looked down at her poor starving baby and tears filled her eyes. What was she doing? She didn’t know how to be a mother, had no idea how to even feed her baby. What happened when she needed to be changed? Or bathed? Or told about boys? Or sex? Oh, God. Fiona wasn’t ready to be a mother.

Her shoulders shook and she sobbed as the baby continued kicking and waving her tiny fist at Fiona’s exposed breast. Fiona tried again, offered her nipple only to have the baby shake her head. “Oh, God. Why won’t you eat for me?”

She pushed the button for the nurse and waited while the baby continued to squall. This couldn’t be the way her next eighteen years were going to go. But as she had the thought, she knew. This would be exactly how it went. Mother and daughter butting heads over things as simple as food and as complex as life and what it all meant. Of course they would battle. And Fiona would have to be strong, would have to be the one who set the rules and the pace.

She swallowed her fear and her tears and repositioned the baby then offered her nipple again. And this time she waited… waited… and finally, the baby latched and Fiona breathed out softly. “There we go.”

She smoothed the baby’s hair forward, smiled as if she’d achieved world peace and solved global warming, then marveled at her baby. Grier’s nose, Fiona’s hair, Grier’s eyes, Fiona’s mouth and chin. Damn. She’d wanted the baby to have Grier’s chin. Still beautiful. The most beautiful little person she’d ever seen.

This time her eyes filled with happy tears, brimming with love and happiness. “Your mommy is a big crybaby.” Her daughter didn’t seem to care and Fiona cradled her closer.

Grier stood in the doorway, his cheeks wet, his eyes leaking. “This keeps up, we’re going to have to buy stock in a tissue company.”

Fiona nodded. “I have hormones to blame. What’s your problem?”

She watched him walk into the room, taller than she’d ever seen him.

He stood over the bed and brushed his finger down the baby’s cheek. “I just love my family.”

And he’d never really had one, not one that was all his, but if she spent too much time thinking about that, she wouldn’t be able to stop crying. She nodded. “Me, too.”

“So what are we going to name this little beauty?” His voice was thick as he stood over them, his finger still caressing the baby’s cheek.

She’d had so many names picked out, but none of them seemed to be right. None of them captured the beauty that was her daughter. “What do you think?”

He tilted his head. “Well. I kind of promised Max…”

“No.” She watched the baby’s eyelids flutter against her cheeks even as her mouth continued working. This would be a strong little girl who deserved a strong name. But also something as beautiful as she was. “Maybe we should think on it. Try some things out.”

Grier nodded. “Do you have any favorites?” When she shook her head, he pulled out his phone and typed into the screen. “Okay… here we go.” He scrolled. “Harper? Ivy? Paris…” His head bobbed from one side to the other. “Piper? Teagen, Tenley, Willow…” He rattled off a few more.

“You have to tell me what they mean. Her name should mean something.” Not that she had any idea what her own name meant.

“Okay.” He continued scrolling. “Zoey means ‘light’ or ‘life.’ Aurora means ‘dawn.’ Caroline means ‘small and strong.’” He paused. “Jocelyn means ‘joyous.’”

“What about Hope?” It seemed appropriate since this baby had given Fiona a new optimism for the future.

Grier put his phone on the bed and looked at their daughter, such love shining in his eyes, Fiona could’ve probably suggested anything and he would have agreed. “I like it.”

Fiona nodded. “Do you really like it or are you just saying that because you think I’ll burst into tears if you say you don’t like it?” He smiled and she knew the latter was true. “Hey, Kermit, our baby is going to have this name for the rest of her life.”

“Whoa. Pulling out the real name…” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “All right, woman. I like the name Hope. I also liked London, Paris, and Brooklyn. Just because they’re cute names. I also don’t think we should stick her with a big name full of meaning that she has to live up to. It’s a lot of pressure to put on a newborn.” He ended strong and Fiona smiled. “What?”

“You’re right.”

And at four p.m., after hours of fussing, three feedings and a few hundred kisses and photos, Grier and Fiona pulled the baby’s name from one of her tiny little hats—London Hope Owen.